"Why are you still following me?"

The question left my mouth before I could reel it back in, being the first words spoken between us for nearly three hours. Evidently, the girl hadn't noticed up until then, because with a little jolt she looked up at me, the brim of her blue and white ball cap shielding the top of her eyes as I glanced (more like glared) over my shoulder. I don't think she got the memo that this was not, definitely not, going to be a long-term arrangement. We weren't friends, we weren't even acquaintances. I honestly didn't even know why I bothered helping her get through that herd. Evidently, from how she was dissecting that walker back in that room, she could handle herself decently enough anyways.

We could've gone our separate ways the second that we were in the clear. And honestly, I was getting a little annoyed. I didn't want to be anchored down to some random kid that I happened to bump into on a limb.

Saying nothing, the girl shrugged her shoulders and turned her head to the side, continuing to trail behind at a comfortable distance as I rolled my eyes and sighed irritably. What was her deal? Christ, was the girl deaf or something? Here I was thinking that I didn't talk a whole lot, and then along comes Little Miss Sunshine over here to snatch my title out from under me.

Seriously, why couldn't she just… just… I don't know. Go away, maybe?

Silence was one thing that I was more than used to on a daily basis, but this one sucked. It sucked ass. It was the awkward, heavy burden silence that I used to loathe whenever I'd have to get picked up from some dingy bar downtown by my parents and spend the entire car ride silently begging for them not to ask any questions about what I'd been doing that night. It was uneasy and uncomfortable, and I wanted it to stop.

Once the irritation started to set in, it would be nearly impossible to remove it from my system. This couldn't continue. The kid had to go one way or another, as I definitely wasn't in the mood for babysitting and, in case it wasn't obvious enough already, I worked better alone. At least on paper, that is. Maybe I did have a bit of an itch to scratch in the people department, and had grown kind of bitter over the past few months over the things that were going wrong; with the things I had seen and been through.

But I wasn't ready for a travelling companion, that much I knew for sure. And so, as I spotted the tree line that lead to my makeshift campsite just a little ways away, I finally got the nerve to turn around again and fully face her for the first time since Howe's. "Let me make this perfectly clear," I started coldly, forcing my abrasive attitude to overpower my weird desire to swap stories with the girl, "I don't need you wandering behind me like this, okay? I don't know what you think this is," I pointed between the two of us, "but it's not a partnership. I'm not out here to give you any handouts. So… uh, yeah. Are you… do you get that?"

I had started to trail off for a second at the end there as I noticed it. The kid had covered it up pretty well with her long-sleeved shirt, but I could spot the markings of some kind of branding near her collarbone. It was a deep, deep red marking that looked like it had just started to scab over, but boy, did it ever look painful.

Noticing where my eyes were lingering, the girl instantly tensed up and pulled her collar even higher, trying her best to draw attention away from it but failing horribly. There were so many questions buzzing around in my head now, most of them revolving around what the hell happened back at Howe's with everything, but I bit my tongue and looked over her shoulder to see a walker stumbling towards us. "Great," I mumbled sarcastically, getting my hunting knife ready again as I marched around her. "Gimme a sec, ok? Just… head up that hill over there. I'll meet you up top."

"…okay."

Shocked that words had actually just come out of her mouth, I shoved the walker into a bush as it toppled onto its back and got caught in some of the branches. "So… you're not deaf, then?" I quizzically asked, frowning a little as she shook her head. "Well then… all that back there… Gah, why didn't you say anything?!"

"I just…" she trailed off, "didn't feel like it."

Unable to believe the nerve of this kid, I tucked my frustration away and instead turned that energy into dealing with the walker I had neglected. This was definitely not going to work out. I could already tell that she'd started to develop some of that infamous teenage snark that, although I too had a reputation for back in the day, now I had absolutely no patience to wade through.

Before I could finish the dude off, though, I was interrupted by that same voice.

"Wait!" she cried out, stepping up beside me as she frowned at the walker. "Let… let me do it," she insisted with that stoic look she'd been garnering for the past few hours. "Please?"

Honestly, I wasn't sure if I'd recently been knocked over the head and hadn't even noticed that my brain had gotten scrambled inside of my skull. Was everything going backwards or something?

"Wh-wha-?"

"Just…" she cut off with a grunt, pulling out her hatchet and shimmying in between a pair of trees to get to the other side of the bush. Watching her go about as she faced her target, lined up the swing and swiftly brought it down brought me to a stark realization. None of this was new to the girl. She'd done this before, and she knew the basics of how to keep on going out here. I imagined that she wasn't just some scared, little kid with no potential to make it – with the right amount of coaching, she could turn into something more.

So many thoughts today… I struggled for a while as my head battled itself over what my eyes were trying to tell me, and, albeit slowly, maybe I was starting to come around. She didn't look like the vicious sort, despite evidence to the contrary as she moved the hatchet back and forth to try and dislodge it from the walker's skull.

But she definitely had the look – one who had seen too much, been traumatized over the last couple of years and had just barely climbed out the other side. That's usually the one that would stare back at me in a reflection from the water or a shattered mirror. I couldn't remember ever seeing a kid acting like this, and it was kind of a scary thought. If she could handle this shit now, just imagine what it might be like when she got older.

If, she got older, that is.

When the hatchet was successfully removed, with the girl huffing and puffing as she sheepishly looked back over towards me, I breathed deeply through my nose and nudged back towards the hill. "C'mon, then," I ushered, starting back towards the campsite as a flock of crows soared overhead.

Yep. I called it. What a weird day it'd been so far.

"Home sweet home," I muttered sarcastically, placing the bag down and rummaging through the collection as the girl looked around. It didn't take her long to do, seeing's how my "campsite" consisted of only a little nest-looking thing I had created out of random pieces of grass, weeds and soft-covered sticks to use as a makeshift pillow. I used to use a tent that was only big enough for a child to fully fit in, but the thing had been pretty ratty and ripped even before I had picked it up, and with all the hassle of having to fold it back up for travelling and then unfolding it when I settled down, I figured I'd just leave it for the next person to use.

That was it. Literally. I had started digging in the dirt a little bit to try and turn the plot of land into a bunker of sorts, but I hadn't gotten around to finishing it yet. The rest was literally just nature taking its course. Rainwater would occasionally collect in a puddle on the side of the road, but thankfully there was a creek a little ways away so that I didn't have to resort to drinking dirt half the time. I'd wake up with the sun dawning through the tree line, go out scavenging for about an hour or two, grab what I could carry with me, and then head back with my haul. I'd learned to treat squirrels as a delicacy a long time ago, but the occasional buck would come alongside the creek to grab a sip, as long as it managed to avoid the walkers.

One day stood out in particular where I had waited almost six hours for a deer – legs cramped to shit, stomach growling so loudly I was surprised half of the state couldn't tell where I was. I was limited to the weapons I could use, not having any sort of hunting rifle to claim as my own, but a pistol was usually all I needed. I couldn't tell you how pissed I was when the prized doe had scattered away after I shot it in the neck, but thankfully the blood loss had kicked in pretty quickly after striking that blow, and my catch now stood half-skinned in a little cubby-hole I had dug out for it earlier with my own two hands.

Well, it was anyways, because apparently something had been around here recently and spoiled my hard-earned meal. All that was left now was bloody bits of fur and a rib cage with only little nibbles of fat left sticking off the bone. Fucking walkers! They ruin everything they touch!

"This should do for now…" I mentioned, more so to myself than to the girl standing nearby. I turned my head over my shoulder and figured that she'd at least want a piece of the action. "You hungry?" I questioned, holding a couple of the vegetables out towards her as she started eyeing it cautiously. Her gaze kept going back and forth between the food and me, and for a while I couldn't understand what the problem was. Was she not hungry right then, or…?

And once it clicked, I literally looked over as if she had lost her damn mind.

"Are you kidding me…?" I cut myself off, grunting bitterly as she lowered her eyes to the ground. "What kind of monster do you think I am? I literally just yanked these out of the bag! Do you seriously think I'd poison you?!"

It actually kind of hurt to realize that she'd think that way about me, even though technically she was still a complete stranger. Admittedly, our first encounter hadn't been the best, and she looked as though she'd been recently put through ten different kinds of hell in a matter of hours, and even though it was probably smart of her not to trust me at first glance, I was still a little miffed.

Giving up on the whole prospect altogether, I dropped the bag to the side and shrugged my shoulders. "Suit yourself, then. Starve, for all I care," I muttered before unzipping my coat and placing it gingerly on the hay pile beside me; not wanting to get it mucked up as I reached into the cubby hole. Dammit… they really messed my dinner up something fierce, couldn't even leave the scraps behind for me to chew on every now and again. What I wouldn't have given for some good, old-fashioned chicken right then… I used to make the most amazing grilled chicken sandwiches with lettuce, tomato, ceasar dressing and shredded cheese. A minute or two in the microwave afterwards, and the thing would end up just melting in your mouth.

But this wasn't just about the food. If the walkers could scope out a dead carcass hidden away like this so easily, then I for sure was easy pickings out here. This place was no longer safe, even with the awesome vantage point and access to the dirt road so close by. Shit – I really wasn't in the mood to travel again, not without a little bit of rest first.

Jolting my hand back as some kind of… I dunno, a mole or a raccoon or something… hissed at me from its hiding spot in behind the deer, I fell back and let my hands fall lazily into my lap. This had really deflated my tires today. The motivation had leaked out and was steadily running dry as the animal scurried back into the hole. Great. I didn't realize that the place was already occupied before I arrived here. Now I was just a total squatter.

Perking my ears up a bit as I heard a light ruffling sound coming from behind me, I turned towards the girl and raised my eyebrow. Huh. Looks as though she couldn't stay staring at the grub for long, not with how much her stomach was grumbling over there. With the brim of her hat covering most of her eyes, I was only able to watch as she cleared her throat and silently asked if she could have some.

Weird kid. I already gave her permission a little while ago, but she still wouldn't dig her hand into the bag. She probably thought her arm would come off if she even dared to try helping herself…

Brushing any witty comebacks aside for the sake of not making this situation any more awkward than it needed to be, I handed her a couple of the vegetables as she abruptly sat down and started devouring the food as if it was her last meal on earth. I couldn't help but wonder just how long she'd gone without a proper meal… proper being a relative term, these days.

By the time she had finished, wiping some of the residue off her face with the back of her sleeve, the girl darted her gaze towards the tree line to avoid making eye contact. "…thank you…" she mumbled graciously, a slight blush of embarrassment adorning her cheeks as I looked at her quizzically.

Yep. Weird kid, definitely.

Originally, I really hadn't planned on getting to know her. I mean, what would the point have been, right? She'd just get injured or killed in a million different ways like everyone else, and we would've missed out on the wonderful, chatty and thoroughly invigorating discussion we'd been having ever since we escaped from Howe's.

But the more that I looked at her, the more curious I became. I didn't think I'd meet anybody who was less talkative than me, and for whatever reason, this girl was starting to become the locus of my attention. The timid way she presented herself, the way she'd constantly be looking over her shoulder to check if anybody was following us, the way she'd scrunch up her face into a scowl whenever we encountered any walkers… This just screamed mysterious. And I wanted to crack the enigma somehow.

She wouldn't sit down even when I sat across from her against the food bag, hoping to god that I didn't squish any of the fruit inside as I laid my legs out flat against the dirt. "Soooo…" I drawled out, emphasizing the "o" as it rolled off my tongue. Pondering what my first question would be, I drummed my fingers upon my thigh. Better start with the basics, I guess. "You got a name there, kid?" I asked as she studied the ground with interest. I tried to tilt my head to see what all the hesitation was about with her, and opened my mouth again as I was about to go further, but she suddenly beat me to it.

"Cle-" she stuttered, making some weird clicking noise in her throat as she tried again. "Clementine…"

Clementine. Hmm. The name rolled around in my mouth a few times as I played a little pattern game in my head to remember it. I used to do this sort of thing when I was about her age, always having thought it important to remember the few people who would actually try to talk to me back at school. The assholes were usually the ones whose names I had purposely forgotten, and believe me, there were a lot of 'em. But I treasured my friends like they were fucking diamonds. Haven't had as much reason to do so these past few years, however.

Gotta say though, "Clementine" was a new one to me. Kinda strange that someone's parents would name their child after a fruit, but whatever. Somehow, it seemed fitting. She definitely wasn't your average kid to begin with.

Nodding in acceptance, I shivered a little as a cool wind chilled me to the bone, and I abruptly started putting my jacket back on. "Well, that's a start," I said, sliding my arms into the sleeves and humming comfily as I felt its warm embrace. Looking back up to find her twirling her foot absentmindedly in the dirt, I sighed exhaustedly. "What are you acting all antsy for? Just chill. I'm not gonna bite," I tried joking, my chuckle dying short as I cringed at my poor choice of words. Somehow, though, it seemed to get through to her as, sure enough, Clementine cautiously sat down and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Not so scary, huh?" I quirked, feeling a strange warmth inside my chest as I saw a little bit of a smirk pulling at the corner of her lips.

Wow. Maybe there was some hope here after all. I mean, if I could get Debbie Downer over here to crack a grin every now and again, imagine what could happen if I –

….no. I… I couldn't. Couldn't let myself fall for it again, not this shit. I was giving in too easily, letting my guard down in the process. How fucking desperate did I have to be… all she gave me was her goddamn name, for crying out loud, and here I was, blubbering like a toddler figuring out how to speak for the first time…

"…what's your name?" she then inquired as I stalled for a second. Crap, I thought to myself with a grimace, I forgot that introductions go both ways.

Pulling out some of the ammunition I picked up from Howe's into my hand and slotting them into the magazine of my pistol, I tilted the weapon back and forth to examine its condition. "…Jane," I grunted dismissively, tying the bag back up as I itched at my scalp.

Fighting a raging war inside my head where I'm sure I was losing, I shut my eyes and cut myself off before I could say anymore. Clementine seemed to be puzzled by my behavior, a fair notion to have in this case, and I found myself standing up without my full consent. My head was buzzing like a swarm of killer bees.

I needed to get out of there. Maybe clear the air for a little bit, give me a chance to sort out my priorities.

"Just… stay here for a while. I'll be back in a couple of hours," I hastily excused myself, zipping up the windbreaker to about halfway up my ribcage and checking that I had my weapons at the ready.

"Wh-what?" she blubbered as I whizzed by, not stopping to make conversation. "Where are you going?"

"…out."

"That's not very helpful…"

"Does it matter? Just out for a walk, I'll be nearby," I told her, figuring that I'd try to get the attention back off of me. "And Clementine," I hollered back, spinning around and walking backwards a tad as I nearly tripped over an exposed tree root in the middle of the leave-riddled forest floor, "try not to eat all the rations while I'm gone, yeah?"

There was something to be said about wandering alone in the woods. Grasses growing up to your shins, mushrooms sprouting out of fallen logs and dead trees, birds calling out into the air in a battle to see who could call out the loudest and the longest... all of it somehow came together in a peaceful coexistence. A crazy, mashed-up, colossal mix-and-match, but it worked somehow. I usually felt more peace taking a stroll through the forest than I could have ever dreamed of getting before the walkers came along.

And yet, today especially, that peace was nowhere to be found. It really wasn't hard to understand why – the little munchkin I left back at the camp sort of put a nail in my 'every Jane for herself' kind of plan.

This sucked. My brain was going into overdrive telling me that keeping her around went against everything that I'd worked for over the past few months. I had a system going, and it was working wonders. No drama, no fuss, just me and my own thoughts to take care of.

My gut, however, was more open to the idea of having a little survivor tagging alongside me though. She seemed pretty tough, and although there may have been a little more baggage carried along than I'd have liked, so far she didn't seem to be causing too many problems. I didn't want to count my chickens before they hatched, though. I needed to figure out where I stood on the matter.

I hadn't really meant to come out this way, passing by a faded sign for some historical-looking site called Parker's Run as I crouched in behind an overturned picnic table. But this was one of the few places around that I hadn't yet explored, and I wanted to make sure that I wasn't overlooking anything important. I'd gotten a bit of a streak going with my first haul, so I figured I might as well try to keep it going while it lasted.

Having felt more refreshed after stopping by the river nearby and splashed some water on my face, I kept my eyes on red alert as I scoped out the area. The coast was clear so far, but with the state that this place was looking in, I wasn't really as confident that it would be worth the trip. Garbage littered the pavement as little blades of grass poked out in between the cracks, with several downed walkers lying on their stomachs with the blood stains beside their heads. They looked pretty fresh to me, which meant that somebody had been here. Recently, too.

Choosing to have my pistol out instead of my knife this time, figuring that it wouldn't really be the walkers I'd have to contend with in a place like this, I carefully walked towards what appeared to be some kind of bulletin board filled to the brim with evacuation notices, missing person posters and so on. All of it covered up the fact charts underneath that talked about the historical site, and I sighed sadly as I gazed upon some of the faces on the posters. A bunch of families, some elderly-looking couples, an individual child or two… there's no way they were ever found, and if they were, they probably weren't how their loved ones remembered them.

I knew that feeling pretty well by that point. Families didn't last out here.

Tracing my index finger along a map of the park, I decided to try my hand at the gift shop that was only a little ways away. It had to be a better prospect than the museum, and other than the little rest stop I was at now, labelled "YOU ARE HERE" on the map as I headed out, there really weren't any other options anyways.

Sigh… I could feel a headache coming on. No matter the surroundings, I couldn't stop thinking about Clementine back at the camp. I was mentally kicking myself for not bringing one of those walkie-talkies I had snatched from the hardware store. At best, it could've been useful in a pinch. Truthfully, it probably would've at least given me a little peace of mind.

But why, though? That was what I didn't understand. Why did I want this, why was she sticking around, why did I care? It made no sense. Clementine was nothing to me, and yet somehow, now that she was here, I didn't really want her to leave. We hadn't even talked yet, not really, but somehow, knowing that there was somebody waiting for me back at my camp…

"Blech," I spit, wandering through the maze-like pathway surrounded by a layer of brick walls as I checked my corners. Mulling over it like this was making my head spin. I couldn't keep doing this to myself – one fucking day of having somebody following me around, and now suddenly I was ass over tea kettle?

No, fuck that. This was it. My mind was made up. As soon as I'd get back to camp, I'd bid my goodbye, hand her a few of the vegetables for good measure, and send her on her way. I couldn't deal with all of these conflicting thoughts anymore. Clementine was a distraction, and distractions almost certainly would lead to my untimely death. I wouldn't let that girl hold me down.

This was for the best… Yeah, sure it was.

About half an hour had passed by as I stared at my arch nemesis of the day – a stupid lock to the stupid gift shop that just wouldn't open, no matter how much I tried to pick it. The metal had been rusted to shit, and although the nail file I had found was working its magic – after all, versatility was not overrated – I was starting to think that this was just a waste of time. The only thing that looked at all pleasing was a half-empty water cooler sitting lopsided in the corner that rolled around every time the wind came through, as well as some blankets and a beaten-up metal bowl with a rag sitting inside of it. I tried to avoid looking at the massive pile of blood sitting on the hardwood floor surrounding all of the stuff, and after another three solid attempts at picking it and one cut finger later, I was about ready to call it quits. Whatever. The people here before definitely had a hand in the mess inside of this gift shop, and the smell alone was making me gag like crazy.

Enough time had passed since I last left Clementine anyways, and although I wasn't good at all of that mushy shit, I was hopeful that parting ways would go over pretty smoothly. I'd just have to lay down the law; that this was for the best, and that we'd be better off going our separate ways. Hey, I was doing her a courtesy here! Better than the alternative – just abandoning her without a word was a lot more cruel than I'd have wanted if the roles were reversed. Besides, she could find her own way. Somehow.

Going over all the possibilities in my head, I put the nail file into my back pocket and stretched out the kinks in my back. I was definitely gonna regret being hunched over like this when I woke up in the morning, but as I started walking back down the stairs to start retracing my steps to the campsite, I immediately froze. Wide-eyed and pale-faced, I found my legs again as I quickly darted back up, into the only room without a gate and hid behind one of the garbage cans. Clutching the pistol tightly to my chest, I gritted my teeth as I considered my options. "Shit…" I whispered, realizing that the group of people heading towards my exact location definitely weren't walkers. The fact that they were holding guns as well as carrying a woman on some sort of make-shift stretcher was proof enough. Bolting it now would only sound the alarm, so I chose to stay as quiet as possible and wait for an opening.

But boy would that be a long wait.

"Get movin'! Up the stairs, now!" came a thickly-coated southern twang as I heard the floorboards start to buckle and shake. Thump-thump-thump.

Jesus, this was terrifying.

A low, rumbling chuckle followed suit as somebody was thrown to the floor just a few feet away from my hiding spot. I darted out of sight just as the guy turned painfully onto his side, but I was pretty sure he caught a quick glimpse of me as I did so. Fuck!

"Easy, Troy, easy," said the deep voice from earlier, sounding as though the man had inhaled one too many cigarettes in his day. "They're not going anywhere. We've made sure of that. Now then," he continued as the guy on the floor was roughly dragged up by his collar and tossed to the railing. The victim in question had soft, brown eyes to match his wavy hair, with a light stubble adorning his chin as he, thankfully, was keeping silent about seeing me for the moment. It didn't stop him from glancing over towards the garbage can though, and as he did so, the man I could only presume was Troy had clocked him with a right hook over the side of his head before shoving him towards one of the support beams. "Where's our second group? Tavia should've been back with those ingrates a while ago."

"Lemme radio 'em," Troy suggested after leaving his victim to wince in pain. I didn't get the feeling that these guys were the friendly sort. "Tavia, you there? Bill wants a word," he said, and most of the rest of their conversation was drowned out as more of their group was brought – more like dragged – either up top at the observation deck, or down on the ground level.

Figuring that it was either now or never, I spotted a doorway at the bottom of the deck that more than likely lead out to the relative safety of the woods. I crouched down, took a few steps towards the railing, prepared to jump, and –

"H-hey…" whined the dumbass that had been hit earlier as sent a glare that he couldn't see. "Don't go… H-help… please…"

So much for keeping silent. I jumped off the railing and out of sight to the stones below just in the nick of time, for almost as soon as he said those words, he was face to face with the grizzly man that I had heard before. The idiot almost blew my cover!

Although, I realized with a frown, that I was likely about to just walk away from some sort of kidnapping or hostage situation here. The guilt was making my stomach churn as I ever so quietly inched the door open and started heading outside.

"Oh Lukey-boy, I think you've lost your marbles, there," the man I guessed was Bill stated. Even though I couldn't see him, I could tell that the guy had an air of superiority about him just by the way he was addressing people. Douchebags usually ended up that way. "Did you take one too many hits to the old noggin there? Well, I'd normally be more than happy to give you something to take your mind off of it, but you see here," he jeered, "you and your little crew really dropped the ball on this one. Didn't you, Luke? And I really don't like to be jerked around."

"They shouldn't be much longer," Troy relayed back as I glued my back to the brick wall outside to avoid any further outbursts like that. "I'm guessin' they were combin' through that museum a ways back, prob'ly got 'em rootin' through them collectibles and shit."

"Sooner rather than later," Bill mentioned as, sure enough, another group of survivors was lead along like a puppet on a string towards the observation deck. This group looked to be a little bit bigger from what I had anticipated, though it was clear from their faces that they weren't together by choice. Many of them looked like they had just been thrown into a boxing ring, a large majority with red-rimmed eyes from crying. Some of them were just mindlessly staring off into space, garnering the same look that I had seen on my sister several times before. "And here we are! The rest of our merry, little band of misfits! I trust they didn't give you too much trouble, Tavia?"

"Caught a couple of them trying to get away," she remarked as I held my breath. One of their men with a machine gun sat down at the picnic table closest to where I was sitting, and I tried to shuffle further back along the wall. "But it's all settled now. They won't be trying that again."

"Tsk-tsk-tsk, fellas, I thought we sorted this shit out already? Cutting and running is not the way to make amends," he strode around the captives, his hands at the sides of his burly, brown winter coat with a fur-plated hood matching his thick, slightly-greying hair. I still couldn't see his face, not that I wanted to pop out and surprise everyone, but I was a little curious to see what this was all about.

Bandit hold-ups never went this way. It was almost always a "give me your shit or we'll kill every one of you" type of deal, but this seemed too coordinated. It was almost as if I had just interrupted a town hall meeting involving one intimidating mayor and a bunch of his underlings, but he hadn't made any real demands yet.

Finding myself kind of drawn to the action, I quickly tiptoed from my hiding spot when nobody was looking over behind some large trees a dozen feet away. There was nothing I could do to help these guys, not that I really had an obligation to in the first place, but I froze when Bill had finally turned around to address some of the hostages. Half of his left eyeball was completely gone, along with a chunk of his orbital bone as well as a thick layer of skin. The sight of some of his bones sticking out, still dripping a bit of blood onto his parka, made me uneasy as I kept my gun held out in front of me.

This is stupid, I told myself, trying to force myself to flee. What are you still doing here? Go back through the woods and get back to camp! These people don't matter at all! Just go!

"Look at this fucking place…" he continued to rant, slowly spinning in a circle as if he was the king of the world. "You guys have any idea why we're out here now? Why so much of our community, our friends and yours are dead? No… I doubt it's really sunken in yet," he mocked, kneeling in front of a Hispanic man and poking him right in the nose. "You. All of you. Every single one of you sacks of dog shit are responsible for the sorry state we're in. And who knows, Carlos? Maybe if all of you hadn't decided to run away in the middle of the night like a bunch of pussies, then your daughter wouldn't have – "

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

BANG!

"OH MY GOD! NICK!"

So much commotion, so much noise…

"Troy, are you trying to bring the herd back towards us? Hmm?" Bill asked as a couple of the other hostages, including that Luke guy who came bounding down the stairs, tried to get to Nick as he groaned in intense amounts of pain. A bullet had been lodged through the guy's knee cap, courtesy of a trigger-happy Troy, who looked now as if he'd been caught breaking a glass by his parents. "Keep it calm, alright? We're reasonable people here. And everyone's emotions are surely running high."

"Y-yeah… sure thing, Bill…"

Nodding in understanding and patting Troy on the shoulder, Bill glanced at Nick and then finally back to Carlos. "As the resident doctor in the house, I suggest you patch him up. Unless of course you've gotten rusty, in which case… well," he smirked, turning towards another pair of people to the right of Carlos, "you know what happens to people who can't contribute."

The doctor in question looked as though his soul had been shattered, not surprising given what the guy was implying. I guessed that these guys had been caught up in the herd somewhere, too. They couldn't have been that far behind me.

I'd had enough sightseeing for the day, and made up my mind right away that getting the fuck out of here would be a solid choice. Even with Howe's still ripe for the picking, I wasn't going to take my chances with these psychopaths.

But just as I was about to leave, a chilling, low, steely voice interrupted my chain of thought.

"There's nothing to tell…" came the voice of a bearded man in a dark green jacket and orange fishing hat. Sitting beside him was a pretty Indian woman with a nose ring and a scared expression on her face. I guessed that whatever Bill had asked must've struck a nerve in the man, since he was gritting his teeth in a seething, barely-controlled rage as he glowered at their captor. "And even if I did, I wouldn't say shit."

"So I figured," Bill surmised with a bitter, humorless bark of a laugh. With a sigh, he placed his hands into his coat pockets and arched an eyebrow. "You sure you don't want to do what I asked? To tell me where that little shithead is? Because I can promise that it won't be – "

"Fuck. You."

"…didn't have to go down this way, you know. Like I said earlier, I've been more than fair to you guys, after the shit you pulled," he announced, motioning for Tavia to hand him a knife that looked eerily similar to the one I was carrying around. As soon as the handle found its way into Bill's outstretched palm, I gulped; knowing what would come next. The defiant one would always get axed first – cutting off the head before the rest of the body could grow, so to speak. I wasn't looking forward to the aftermath. Bill bent down in front of the man, smiled to reveal his toothy grin, and swatted the man's hat off of his head.

I thought he was going to end the guy right there, but this whole thing hadn't been going in the direction I thought ever since they strolled over here.

"You know, Kenneth, I admire your spirit. I really do. It's gotta take someone with some serious kahunas to try and say that to me. You and that kid have gotta be related somehow," Bill went on, his voice taking on a darker tone as the blade of the knife flashed in the mid-day sun. "But this attitude of yours? This insubordination? We can't have that in our ranks. Not anymore. Not out here," he motioned to the surrounding area as I accidentally dropped my gun to the ground. Hearing the twigs snap and the leaves crumple upon impact, I flinched and quickly picked it up, moving to the right as quickly and as silently as I could just as Bill whirled around.

"Mike, Vince, go check it out. Now!" he commanded, his tone not giving out any real options for them as I dove to my stomach and cursed myself for not getting out of here earlier. "You see that though, Kenny? It's called commanding respect. Mike did his time in the pen, and earned his position with no problems. But you fuckers? Hmph, couldn't stand having to wait in there for a couple more weeks to fill up your probationary period. Patience isn't exactly your strongest virtue, is it?"

Breathing ragged and palms sweaty, I spit out some of the dirt and crawled over towards a set of sharp rocks leading down towards a small, stream-like section of the river. There was a bridge right next to it, and I rolled over to place myself underneath it; knife at the ready as I swore under my breath. "Shit, shit, shit…" I whispered, watching as Vince picked up the pistol I had dropped and hurried back over to the group. Mike looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, and as he closed his eyes and shook his head, I could see him rubbing a hand over his face as a quiet sob shuddered his body.

"Is she out there? Huh? Is she trying to come back for round two?!" Bill demanded, grabbing Kenny roughly by the collar and shaking him as the bearded man spit in his face. Wiping the saliva off of his chin, Bill shook his head gradually and laughed again. "Look… I hate violence. I really do. It's tedious, it's repetitive, it hurts, but unfortunately it gets things done."

The woman next to him started bawling and shouting out "no" in between her hiccups, and all the rest of their group could do was watch as Bill gripped the knife tightly in his hand.

"I'm gonna fucking break you," Bill snarled venomously, not missing a beat as he slowly nicked Kenny's cheek with the blade. It was hard to see from over here, but I could tell there was a bit of blood dripping down the man's cheek as Kenny winced from the pain.

"Oh god, please don't do this! Kenny… Kenny… Don't kill him!" came the wails of the woman beside him, practically bent over backwards in hysterics as she begged for Bill to spare his life. Judging from the reaction, I gathered that the two of them were together in some way.

Slowly turning his gaze towards said woman, Bill grinned and pulled the knife away from Kenny's face. "Oh darling," he cooed, taking his hand and brushing a few locks of dark hair away from her face. "Who said anything about killing him?"

Taking off in the chaos that followed, I turned my head away quickly as Bill stabbed her in the heart; twisting the blade in her chest for only a second before yanking it out and slashing her throat with a quick strike across. I didn't want to listen to her gargle on and choke on her own blood as it started to pool, and I tripped on a few of the stones as I heard one last final cry before booking it into the woods.

"SARITA!"